Moments before they met (eng)
by Jaynekochan
Summary: This story take place before the first meeting between Ryo and Hideyuki. Or rather it's a story about how my mind imagined what could have occured for them to meet in the first place
1. Chap 1 : Nobody is essential

**DISCLAIMER :** The characters of this fiction (Ryo, Hide, Kaori, Saeko and the prefect) are the exclusive property of Tsukasa Hojo, as well as City Hunter in it's globality... That said, the old Motoharu, him, he is mine since created by my own mind as well as this story.

**MOMENTS IN LIFE :  
**

**PREFACE : BEFORE THEY MET**

**CHAPTER 01: NOBODY IS ESSENTIAL**

Sitting against the wall on the station's floor, facing the message board, he watched people pass by. Either eager to return home after a hard day or dragging their feet for those who instead were preparing themselves for a hard night of work. Over time, he became able to differentiate them, just as he had learned to recognize people who were happy souls from the ones that didn't really know what they were doing here, the ones like him. It's been barely six months since he came to live like this but already he was able to know those things just by looking at the approach of a person who passed in front of him. He was able to know whether the person was happy or sad, if she walked aimlessly or if she had a destination... Once accustomed, there were so many things for the eyes to see in a single approach, once you knew where to look at that is. He had spent so many years this way that now he was able to decrypt those people, without even really paying attention to them, without even really seeing them, just like they did not see him, did not pay attention to him.

So many wasted years... So many years spent watching his own life slip through his fingers while he was in prison. Perhaps, this was the reason why today he had this ability to read people so easily, only by watching them. Perhaps, he had learned to look at life without participating, only being able to see through it. After all, this was the only thing he could do, he had nothing, no place to hurry to return to in the evening, no loved one to expect him and worry if he was late, no employer to yell at him for the same reason... Not a single thing left... All lost over the years spent behind bars… Because life itself had not stopped turning without him, it had not wait for him. After all, nobody was indispensable in this world. Nobody ?... No, not a one... There was a time when younger and more naive, he had believed the contrary, that some people were essential in order for you to life. But he was mistaken on this point. Not only had he been wrong, but this was also the reason that pushed him to have such a life. He had believed though… Believed that family, friends, love, all the people who matter to you and for who you matter, that all these people were essential… But they were not…

He believed it to the point of stealing... To the point of killing... To the point of sacrificing his own life in order to protect those who were dear to him, those who were dear to his family... And he lost everything. He didn't count anymore the years spent in jail for his naivety and for the crimes he had committed because of it, for those people he thought he needed in his life. He had sacrificed himself thinking only about their happiness, but life, life had continued to follow its own path without giving him a predefined map to follow, she continued when he thought he had chosen the right path... But he was on the wrong track. He had lost his way over time, and at the same time, he had lost the people who could have shown it to him... But at least he had learned that nobody was indispensable. If you stop, even for only five minutes on the path of life, life does not stop to wait for you, it continues without you, not caring whether or not you had the intension to continue. And if you're not there to watch it, it hits the people who matter in your eyes, he had learned it at his own expense, but at least he had learned it : nobody is essential in life. If while your back is turned you lose a loved one, you will suffer, if it is someone you love with all of your heart, you will have the impression that you will never overcome the pain and some people may even think of the worst...

But the next day, the sun will rise as if nothing had happened. People will continue to live normally, laughing, crying, and knowing nothing of your pain or for some of them ignoring it on purpose. Ignoring that to you the days seem less sunny without that person, ignoring that even if you continue to live, you aren't really living. In time you will realize that whether that person counted for you or not, life itself continues. And as more time pass, you will begin to notice that your pain is a little lighter every day, until one day you will be able to think about this loved one and smile while remembering her. And finally, one day you will understand that over time, every little detail, every single moment that this person spent with you is engraved in you, either in your mind or in your actions. Yes, he had also learned that in prison. When he had learned of the traffic accident that had killed his wife and his father, a little after the death of his mother, taken away by her disease, he had believed that life ended there for him too… But life had continued… Without him… Until he became aware of it, but being in jail, he hadn't been able to catch up the train of life… And once out, why should he have try ? He no longer had anything that counted and he was already too old to try to rebuild a life for himself. Of course, he could have tried to find a job, but who wants to employ a former inmate ? He didn't have an address and no family to help him. Friends ? Long gone… In the world in which he had been raised, friends were like family, but they don't like it to be known that they have an acquaintance that is locked up for murder. So they don't visit you in prison, no, they forget about you.

This man of about fifty years that life had aged before his time smiled mechanically seeing the train's wagon stop to evacuate its swarm of students. So young, clucking and quarreling among themselves about trifles, their lives were ahead of them. They didn't know that for most of them, life would never be what they dreamed of. And what could they be dreaming about at their age ? Grumbling among themselves about what their parents made them suffer… The boys talking about mechanic, flipping magazines while hiding in corners, for they didn't want people to notice that at their age they shouldn't have such magazines in hands... The girls in groups, pressing themselves against a wall and talking of the latest gossip. A gossip that was surely related to the one of the group who wasn't present to see her friends talking behind her back. But after all, the missing one had surely done the same thing another day, when it was another that was not there. The one who appeared to be the leader of the group apparently had a crush on one of the boys who was reading his magazine, waiting his turn at the station's distributor. And her friends where apparently giving her the latest news concerning him. How he would have liked going back in time and being their age again, believing in life as they did without even a question ask.

The old man, mentally speaking since physically he was no more than a middle aged man, let his gaze wander over this youth who did not have any fear. And sitting down as he was he almost jumped out of his skin when his eyes met hazel's ones fixed on him. For a moment he was tempted to bend his head down, to avert his eyes, out of a habit he had taken in the past six months since his release out of jail. But something held him back… Something in those eyes was different from all the other looks given to him, a beggar, until now, even if he was unable to tell what. Or more accurately, he knew what, he recognized the difference, but he couldn't understand the reason behind it… People looked at him with pity, with contempt. They did not really pay attention to him, just enough to be aware of his presence when they were using the distributors next to which he was sitting, and enough to throw in his saucer the few little coins that the distributors gave back to them with their commands. Little coins that weren't enough for them to have any importance. So they threw them at him, enjoying themselves when their coins had more value than the ones he already had. They threw them in his bowl, making the little pieces of metal resonate against each others… Only for others to hear it and look at the kind soul who had given alms to a beggar.

They didn't give him because he didn't have enough food to eat, but for the sole purpose that it gave them some kind of value among others : they were the ones who were kind enough to give money to a less than nothing. To a man who was unable to work, a man who was just able to beg others for what he should have earned by himself, like them. The old man knew it, he could read it in their eyes full of contempt : 'At least, I am better than him', a population imbued of itself with moral values that were worthless, drowned under their vanity and their arrogance. He may have no possession except for his name, but at least, he was aware of his own value. He couldn't say the same about them, all these eager men who didn't even know after what they were spending their life running, aside from power and money. So why was she looking at him like that ? Without contempt, without prejudices, without even taking notice that she was ostentatiously staring at him ? She just stood there, leaning against the board of message and she looked at him… Just watching him… The old man jumped when a teenager shoved him aside while passing, and spilled his saucer making his coins roll on the ground. Almost walking on him in the process while squabbling with his friends. He didn't stop to help him pick them up, he merely turn his head in his direction to look at what had almost made him fall over but when his eyes met the worn out look, the teenager only shrugged his shoulders disdainfully before continuing on his way.

The girl frowned looking at the boy getting away but the old man didn't see it, he was too busy trying to pick up what the "good" ones had given him during the day. He had just enough in his saucer to buy a sandwich at the bakery in front of the station, or maybe a hot coffee in one of the distributors with a piece of white bread at the bakery. He didn't know yet… He had not made his mind up yet between only a full sandwich for his empty stomach or a piece of white bread but accompanied this time by a hot drink for his cold body… He only knew that he had the right amount of money for one or the other, but not enough for both… Just the right amount, he had to find the coins that rolled on the ground or he wouldn't have enough for anything.

- Kaori !

He was missing two coins... Two coins without which he wouldn't even be able to buy a piece of white bread. The old man bent on all fours on the floor, hearing the giggles of the band schoolgirls who were making fun of him, hiding behind their hands. But he did not pay attention to it, and he saw them… Huddled on the floor against the wall, his two missing coins had rolled under the distributor of the middle. Reaching his arm out, he desperately tried to catch them but he was too short. Putting all his coins in his other hand, he tried using his saucer to catch the two coins, but even with that he was still too short.

- Kaori !

The old man stifled a scream when someone walked on his other hand, continuing his way without even noticing, or maybe not caring, he didn't know, and he gave up. He already knew that his arm was not long enough, even with his saucer, to reach his coins. For a moment, crouched on the floor like he was, he was tempted to cry in rage and frustration… He had picked up enough in the day to buy some food to stall his empty stomach overnight… He couldn't even remember when was the last time that he was able to swallow a mouthful of bread… The old man straightened his posture to sit on the ground, leaning back against the distributor stuck between two others, he raised his knees to put his forehead against his wrists. His reddening hand, now bearing the imprint of a shoe heel, tightening on the coins that remained in it.

- Kaori !

The beggar jumped again at the feeling of movements beside him. Turning his head, he found kneeling beside him the hazel-eyed girl who was staring at him so strangely a few minutes earlier. He wondered what she was doing here, kneeling as she was on the ground, regardless of the fact that her long high school skirt was gathering the dust left on the station's floor by the people who had circulated here throughout the day.

- Kaori ! Your skirt !

The old man let his gaze run back along the pant legs stationed behind the girl. The worn out look finished his race along the body of the man who stood behind the girl, an arm trying to make her stand up. But too busy seeking something in her school bag, she didn't pay attention to the man reaching for her, in the same way that she apparently didn't care that one of her arms was touching him, the beggar… And he frowned, remembering having seen this man, this young man more accurately, somewhere before. But he was too tired and too hungry to remember where and when their first meeting took place, or who this young man was… Surely it was someone he happened to see in the station in the mornings or evenings.

- Ah !

Once more, his gaze returned to the girl. A girl who apparently was called Kaori and went to the high school at the exit of Shinjuku according to the uniform she was wearing. A girl who was proudly brandishing a 50 cm long ruler while smiling at him. Not caring about the young man trying to make her stand up, the girl pulled away from his grip on her arm and stretched on the ground, to look under the distributor against which the beggar was supporting himself. Apparently she didn't care that her butt was now in the air or that people were watching her. Bystanders watching the scene were pointing fingers at her while the young man accompanying her was blushing in embarrassment at being the center of their attention.

- Kaori ! What are you doing for god sake ?

The old man was asking himself the same question, but the girl just ignored her companion, squirming and wriggling under the dispenser without being aware of the attention on her, or perhaps not caring, he could not say.

- That's it !

Under his gawking eyes, the girl stood up before massaging her neck while the young man was almost kneeling on ground, trying to dust her uniform and the old man could almost have laugh at the irony of the situation if he had not been so tired. But once more, the teenaged girl surprised him by leaning on him and forcing him to open his sore hand to drop, with the greatest possible care and without making any noise, the two coins he had so desperately tried to recover.


	2. Chap 2 : To survive above all

**CHAPTER 02 : TO SURVIVE ABOVE ALL**

Tokyo, cosmopolitan city where businessmen excel, their power growing proportionally to the city in the Japanese soil's heart. Tokyo, enriching itself each and every days despite the outside world's problems. Golden city and yet still "popular", expansive and yet within the reach of everyone, innovative and yet clinging to its customs. The population of this town speaks of it as a person, an acquaintance, a friend. Tokyo, where you can find circulating the richest and most honest people as well as another part of its population which, although equally healthy, is the opposite of the words "honest" and "presentable". Tokyo, a prosperous city in which heart's are born the bigger brains of the underground society.

This same gigantic city where buildings grew out of the ground to climb up toward the sky and shimmer in the light is not without her dark side for those who know where to look. Or more specifically for those who, in the evenings, once the cover of the night had fallen, found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Honest people who had hoped to return home after a day of hard work, spend trying to earn the bread for their family. Those same people who had chosen to take a shortcut to return to their loved ones as quickly as possible… Never saw them again most of the time. Because on this city's streets, after dark, evil lurked.

But for now, the night still had to come. These alleys, dark anyway since the high buildings do not allow the sun to shine through, did not have anything to hide other than the simple onlookers living in the streets. People who aren't anymore harmful than the mice and other rodents which were their companions of fortune. Yes, they are their companions, since who else would have wanted to befriend them other than these animals ? Nobody… In a city where wealth is spreading, they do not like the poor.

- Damn it !

Slumped on the floor against the wall of one of these streets, a man, still young if one were to believe his physique, stood up grimacing. His complexion was pale and one of his hand was holding himself under his ribs. For a moment he leaned on the dingy wall, a pale figure in the dark alleys, before lowering his gaze on himself, slightly pulling his hand away from his abdomen. A hand which was covered in blood… He did not need to be an expert to know that he was bleeding too much, or that he had been injured more seriously than what his dark eyes could see. Moreover, he did not need to be an expert to know that he shouldn't have been injured.

He knew that he already had enemies, despite the fact that he arrived only recently in this city. But for all the professional that he was, never would he have imagined that someone would hire a kid, barely a teenager, to get ride of him. He lived for so long among combatants and firearms that he hadn't been paying attention in a park in broad daylight… That is, until he felt the knife's blade penetrating his body while he was still holding the ball he had picked up on the ground for the boy. His gaze had met with childish and frightened eyes, and only then did the boy let go of the knife still embedded in his abdomen and took of running. What was this world where children were used to get rid of murderers ? He had seen so many horrors already, but never would he be able to accept this notion.

For a moment his legs trembled under him as he tried to move, but he clung to the wall and stood firm. He wasn't going to die here. Not in this deserted alley, not that way... He would not make this child a murderer... He wasn't going to give them that pleasure... He saw a few meters ahead of him the lights of one of the major streets of the capital and he clenched his teeth before continuing his path, his hand covering up once again his wound. He would have to go out in the street in broad daylight, he knew. He couldn't heal this wound himself and who knew what the kid had done with the knife before using it on him. But he couldn't go to the hospital either, that was something impossible for him to do.

One solution presented itself to him, and although he was against it, he had no other choice. He did not intend to die this way, slowly emptying his blood in dustbins. He had not survived the war and the battlefields to end his life like this... The old man had told him... He had promised him that the world wasn't only about blood and betrayal... That the world was worth to be known... He had told him that he had to live to discover it, that he wasn't suppose to die like a dog under the harsh blows of its master. He had promised...

Once arriving into the lights of the big street he squeezed his teeth and forced his body to stand up straighter so that no one took notice of his condition, in the case where someone in the crowd paid any attention to him that is. He tightened a little more firmly his long jacket around him before continuing his journey, feeling his strength diminish with every steps he took. He didn't believe in the words of the old man but he had to stay alive whatever the cost, even if only for a little longer. It wouldn't really bother him to die, but not at the hands of a child who would have this crime on his conscience for the rest of his life. He himself knew only too well what it was like to still be a child and yet to already have blood on his hands.

And moreover, he owed it to the old man. He wasn't going to give him back what he took by dying like an animal. This old man who had watched over him for months, talking softly to him, when he was nothing more than a beast ready to attack at any moment. He had to live at least long enough for it to have been worth it for the old fool. That the only way he could pay him back for his care… Because even if had had money to pay for it, how much do you give to someone who gave you back your humanity ? He had no idea. Anyway he couldn't die like that, it would make the happiness of Angel who would become "the number one" with his death. And that, that was out of the question.

A few more steps and he finally let his weight rest on a wall on the side of a door against which he began to knock. He had another reason for which he refused to die like this, even if he wouldn't admit it… If he died today, the next person on the list of people to eliminate would be Angel, and that he couldn't let it happen. Angel was the only other person trying to make the old man's ramblings a little more real. If each of them were to die, who would take their places ? Nobody, he knew it. This world was in black and white only, no one would try in their place to incorporate some gray in it, like they were trying to do. He couldn't die from a stupid stab wound.

The door opened after a moment which seemed endless to him and yet it surely could not have lasted more than a minute. And finally his eyes fell on the old man to whom he owed his life, like so many others. Despite his pain, he attempted to smile while meeting the worn out gaze of this man who had surely seen too much in his long life, perhaps, certainly so, even more than himself.

- So Doc, you're not in a hurry today apparently. One day at this rate, you'll find a still hot corpse on your doorstep.

But before the old man could answer him, the young man collapsed forward, into his arms, making him falter and lose his balance. It was only after he had pushed the boy away from him and had rolled him to his side that the doctor realized the pool of blood on his T-shirt, which was already red originally, and on the ground. With a quicker step he arose and walked around the fainted form before closing the door so nobody could see what was happening in his home, before returning to the body lying on the floor. The doctor began by removing the top of his clothes to inspect the damage, all the while talking to himself aloud to evacuate his fear.

- What did you do kid ? Huh ? Where have you been poking your nose to be in this state ? You think it's for the pleasure of seeing you come back like this that I treat you ? Huh ?

Continuing to grumble after him while nobody could hear him, the old man immediately began his work directly on the floor of the entrance of his clinic. After disinfecting the wound, inspecting and repairing the damage, he donned a thread in one of his suture's needles with a hand that despite his age did not shake.

This man, still a kid in his eyes, he could not let him die. He didn't know why, had no idea. After the long life he had, he had seen horrors without names, but most importantly, he had learned to give up and to watch men die when he could do nothing anymore. And yet, this kid, who knew why, he could not. He could not let him die, he hadn't been able to when he was barely human, how could he do it now ?... Something told him that this man was worth it... But above all, he had to prove to him that he was wrong and that life worth living, contrary to what he had seen so far. Maybe it was his "soul to save" as it was called, his "mea culpa", he didn't know.

But deep down, he was certain that life had something to offer the kid, because anyway, she owed it to him already. The whole thing was for him to succeed in keeping this young man alive despite all the obstacles put in his way until life finally offered him his moment of respite.


	3. Chap 3 : The after taste of justice

**CHAPTER 03 : THE AFTER TASTE OF JUSTICE**

Leaning on the railing circling the small terrace of their apartment, a man sighed while looking at the lights of the city already immersed in the night. Out of habit he patted his pockets looking for his cigarettes before sighing again, remembering the promise he had made to his little sister to stop smoking. His little sister, his guardian angel... His life... For many, the girl wouldn't have seemed anymore special than that. She wasn't particularly beautiful, she didn't really stood out obstinate as she was to behave like a tomboy. She was not smarter than the average, but not a dunce or an idiot either, and she had no particular talent. She had nothing to make her a girl that marked you and who you remembered. Add to that her crippling shyness, and it even made her a girl that you could have the tendency to forget immediately after crossing her path.

And yet this man, just an adult himself, thought that most people were blind. For this girl, this girl there, stood out of the lot in her own way, but he would never say that to the lot of them. If people were too blind to realize that by themselves, they were not worth it for him to take the time to explain to them how exceptional she was. No, it was his jealously guarded secret... A secret... Like the one he was hiding from her. Sighing once more, the young policeman opened the drawer of the little shoe cabinet installed on their terrace and pulled out a box in which there was a pack of cigarettes.

He knew he had promised her but tonight he needed these few puffs of tobacco. It had been a couple of months since the last time he was tempted to smoke, however even before she had made him promise he wasn't really a smoker. He just needed a stalk from time to time, just like some people need a drink here and there when their thoughts were troubled. But he also knew that she wouldn't blame him for it, she was too good for that and she knew that he wasn't an addict. Just… It was just that his day had been too long, too hard, too emotionally exhausting. And he had nothing else to escape the weight of all the things he had on his shoulders.

Who could have said upon seeing this twenty-five years old man all the weight that was on his shoulders ? Oh, of course, his little sister was not a burden, but life had not spared either of them, her even less than him, although she didn't know that. Obviously, he loved his life and he was happy to be able to take care of her, but sometimes... Sometimes, he would have like to be able to return a few years back and prevent the death of their father, because if their father were still alive, he himself would have a shoulder to rest on. Sometimes in the evening, watching the lights of the city begin to light one after the other while Kaori was preparing their dinner, he remembered their father. He remembered all those times when he had not been able to see or understand the changing expressions on his father's face.

Sometimes, listening to Kaori's humming and waltzing into the kitchen, he wondered if the old Makimura had been as afraid as he was while watching her. Afraid of what life might still have in reserve for her... Afraid of what life could do to her... Afraid that one day she would lose her joy of living... Because like his father before him, he now knew what was hiding under the peaceful vision of this city. And today he regretted not having been able to read in the silence of their father. He only hoped that like him, his father had been able to find some kind of appeasement while watching Kaori evolve, while seeing her grow up and flourish despite the losses she already had suffered. But this didn't stop him from asking himself whether in this life, in this city, in this world, he would be able to protect Kaori : her smile, her kindness, her purity.

For the people around them, she was not exceptional, she was not out of the ordinary or irreplaceable, but for him... For him, Kaori Makimura born Hisashi was all that mattered. From the first time he had laid eyes on her while she was still an infant wrapped in blankets in the protective arms of their father... As soon as his eyes had met her hazel's ones, while her tiny fingers had encircled his thumb, he had knew that he would do everything to protect her. Even if he had only been ten years old at the time... The words choked by his father telling him that henceforth she would be his sister, his tone, everything in that moment had told him that Kaori would be his responsibility. And since that moment years ago, not once had he taken his eyes away from her.

He remembered her first laugh among them, just as he remembered her first tears or her first angers. He remembered the first time she produced a club, when in primary school a boy had raised her skirt to see her panties, just like he remembered the first time she had stood up to a gang of boys making fun of a plump little girl. A plump little girl who's first name had been Eriko, who had grown up in beauty and who was now from the top of her sixteen year's old body making more than one masculine head turn to look at her. But even if her body had matured beautifully one thing hadn't change with time : from that first day in primary school she had remained Kaori best friend.

Yes, he had been present for all of this, smiling with her, caring for her every time she had broken an arm or a leg while climbing a tree or biking... He remembered her distress at the death of their father, the weeks that had followed during which Kaori had not uttered a single word, locking herself in her grief, not showing it so that he, Hideyuki wouldn't have to support her in her pain while bearing his own as well. He remembered all of those days, all of those nights when he would found her sitting on the floor of the train station under the message board. The words written in a childish hand with chalk on the board breaking his heart a little more every times. Those had been Kaori's only words for months, not spoken words, but delivered written on a chalkboard : "Dad, please, come back".

Sometimes during this period, he had cursed the teacher who had told them the legend about the message board of Shinjuku Station, sometimes, he would have liked to tear the board from the station's wall, to make it disappear, because maybe without it Kaori would have cried. Maybe without it, Kaori would have expressed her sorrow in spoken words... But each night, finding her in the same place, he had been relieved and thanked god for this board. Because at least he knew where to find her. Over the days and weeks, the employees of the station had learned to recognize the little girl and had begun to take the habit of contacting his high school to warn him that she was there, keeping an eye on her until he came to pick her up.

But above all from this period, he remembered the words of his father at his death, the promise he had made and the history of the origins of his little "sister"... And most of all, he remembered his own anger when the prefect, former partner of officer Makimura, had offered him to contact Kaori's mother, which would have mean for him to lose the last member of his family. Somehow, even back then, he knew it was coming from a good intention from the chief Nogami, and somewhere inside himself he also knew that contacting Kaori's biological mother would have made him keep the promise made to his father, but he was unable to do it. He could not because back then Kaori was all that he had left, just like he was all that was left as a family for Kaori... Well, that's what she thought anyway, even today.

But despite everything, he had been unable to do it. Even if he knew that the little girl would surely better thrive alongside a mother and a sister, rather than with a young man barely out of his teens, he had been unable to do it... For him to give her back to her mother, he would have had to admit the truth to Kaori... That he was not her brother, that their father was not hers... But that foreigners were her family... He had not had the courage to tell this truth to the little girl who every day went to the train station to leave the same message on the same board, like it was her lifeline... Sometimes even now, he wondered if he had made the right choice, if he should tell her the truth about her family now that she was a teenager instead of waiting for her to reach adulthood like he planed... Maybe when she would learn the truth, Kaori would be angry at him, but he was a coward in a way.

It would surely have surprised more than one person if he had said it aloud, but yes, he was a coward... He was a coward because he wanted to keep this treasure for himself a little longer... His Kaori... As long as he could keep her near him, he could keep an eye on her, make sure that she was okay, that no danger was lurking around her. After the death of their father, he had done everything he could to try to ensure her the sweetest life possible. He had stopped his studies after his graduation to enter the workforce and become a police officer. Police officer... Some thought he was following his father's footsteps, he knew it, but he had made this choice for other reasons. In truth, at the death of his father, the last job he would have chosen was that of a police officer, but the choice was simple to make afterwards. All the acquaintance of their family were cops, so naturally some had told him they would help him if he wanted to enter this work path.

They needed money, and this work ensured them an income and then... Somehow, he wanted to make sure with his own eyes that the city where Kaori grew was "livable" for her. Maybe it came with time or maybe it was because he had seen his father do this same job... Or maybe it was because he had spent years looking after Kaori growing up, but over the months and years, he had begun to like his job. It was not a profession he chose because since he was little he had wanted to stop the criminals, it was not because he was a vigilante willing to defend the widow and the orphan, far from it. Initially, it was only a choice made to feed and clothe Kaori. But over time...

Over time he had come to understand why his father had "chosen" this work rather than another... But he was not his father... Or maybe, on the contrary, somewhere inside him he was like his father. Maybe that would explain the dark and lost faces he saw as a teenager on his father's face, faces that he had failed to understand back then... But the fact was that as time went on, the more Kaori grew and was in less and less need of his support, the harder it was for him to withstand the hazards of his profession or the so called "honest people" in general. The more the years passed, the harder it was for him to understand the justice of his country. His job was to arrest criminals, murderers and thieves to protect honest people, and he did it, but it was increasingly difficult to digest the rules of justice. Like this afternoon in the train station. This man sitting in front of the vending machines, he had recognized him. Was it due to the fact that it was one of the first cases that he had ?

He remembered this case : he was a young recruit led by a senior officer. At the time, the rookies were used to patrol in prison. Surely to train them to the characters of these types of men who they would one day face on the field. But surely also because playing the babysitter for convicts was an ungrateful job... But he remembered this man, Rei Motoharu. He was not a particular case, on the contrary, he was a rather quiet prisoner, spending his days sitting in his cell or in the courtyard of the prison, most of the time with a book in hand. He spent his days reading or looking at the other prisoners or his gaze lost beyond the fence of the prison, but never uttering a single word.

When he had begun his job at the prison, Hideyuki had somehow been briefed, warned about some cases, some prisoners whom he had to be wary of. There was everything in this prison, from the simple thief to the serial killers, hence the need for a briefing. But this man this afternoon, he had immediately recognized him because even at the time, it was a case that had made him ask himself some questions about the justice of his country. Rei Motoharu had spent years in prison when he had been nothing but a pawn in the hands of the Japanese mafia. A simple man too honest and too nice whose life had been ruined because of it... Wasted because like Hideyuki himself, he had people in his life that were more than everything to him and he had wanted to protect them, doing everything for that purpose.

A man who had paid for the men above him even if he was not responsible for their crimes, even if he had nothing to do with those crimes... A man who, during all the time that Hideyuki had worked at the prison, had not received a single one visit... And a man who had died inside of himself the day he had received an official letter from the hands of the young officer Makimura, an official letter announcing the death of his father and his wife in a traffic accident... An accident... An outright deletion of evidence and witnesses rather, the young policeman knew it, but the justice of his country had kept her eyes closed, paid to do so by the real criminals.

Throughout his years in the police force, Hideyuki had not completely forgotten this man. A man guilty and yet innocent, a man that justice had cornered and pushed to the wall. But this afternoon, at the train station, crossing his eyes while Kaori tried to help him, Hideyuki had suddenly realized the wrongness he felt while doing his job. He had begun to feel it a few months before that but until that moment at the train station, he had failed to understand what actually bothered him. But faced with this man, faced to the tears he had attempted to hide when Kaori had put the coins back in his sore hand, he had finally opened his eyes to a fact he had tried to hide from himself for too long. He was only twenty-five years old and yet he was exhausted. Like this man aged beyond his years, he had seen too much in his life, but unlike him, he still wanted to believe.

He had seen Rei Motoharu's eyes posed on Kaori, and he had seen the astonishment in the worn out gaze caused only by the young girl's actions. Like this man, despite his profession, Hideyuki Makimura no longer believed in justice. He had seen too many murderers come out free from Shinjuku's police station, too many "innocent", pawns really, sent to jail in their places, too many people mourning their loved ones to keep believing in it... And yet, despite everything he wanted to believe again, because like Mr. Motoharu this afternoon, he saw Kaori... Kaori who alone among dozens and dozens of people was able to lie on the ground to help a beggar.

No, he no longer believed in the justice of this country, but he still had hope in him. Was it not ironic that the purest and most honest person he knew was in fact the daughter of a gangster ? That she was so kind and good when the police's justice was completely corrupt ?

- Hide ? Come to eat, it's ready.

Hideyuki smiled at the night, crushing his cigarette on the railing without her noticing it before entering the apartment.


End file.
